Chapter 2

That evening, Arthur was in a state of panic when he discovered that his notebook was missing. He tore through the house on a rampage and his room was a complete mess by the time he had finished looking through every corner and crack. Only when night time came and a summer rain began to fall did the boy remember he had left his precious notebook at the apple tree.

As much as he pleaded with his mother to go back outside and find it, she shook her head with a sympathetic smile. Gesturing to the weather outside, she reasoned with him and Arthur eventually gave in to temporary hopelessness.

The morning after, Arthur was restless all through breakfast and all through work. As much as he wanted to leave the fields in order to look for his notebook, he knew that even his understanding mother wouldn't approve of him skipping out on the harvest. It was how his family earned their share of food and to sacrifice it for the sake of a single notebook wouldn't be wise. . . even if the information in the book was rare and quite valuable.

The boy let out a pitiful groan as he looked longingly in the direction of the apple tree, mentally praying that his notebook wasn't completely ruined. All Arthur could do was slave away in the fields, anxiety uncomfortably digging a hole in the pit of his stomach as he impatiently waited for his shift to be over.

Alfred hadn't let go of the leather notebook ever since he woke up that morning and not even when the maids were dressing him. He clutched the notebook to his chest during breakfast, his morning lessons, and even when he took his horse out for a ride. His eyes were glued to the pages at any possible chance and on several occasions, the young Prince almost collided with several walls in his trance. If he ever needed to put it down, Alfred made sure it was just by his feet or no further than an arm's reach. His protectiveness of the notebook didn't go unnoticed by the palace's staff.

The young prince had stayed up way past his bedtime to finish reading the book and despite his efforts, he fell asleep with his hands still poised in mid page turn. Alfred had been excited to discover that not only did the notebook contain pages and pages of knowledge, but a small fraction of them were stories; stories a lot different than the tales Alfred were told by his parents and maids.

The knights and kings in this book didn't slay evil dragons. The two shared mutual respect for each other and coincided with one another, maintaining everlasting peace within the kindom. Unicorns weren't endangered because of illegal horn hunting. Instead, they were close to humankind and granted people rare magic for their good deeds. Dwarves didn't have to hide in the mountains. Rather, they maintained mineral trade between races because they weren't betrayed by the spread of greed and selfishness.

Despite his admiration for the notebook, Alfred had been shocked to see the name Arthur Kirkland written on the backside of the cover when he had hunted through the pages for the author. The older boy had seemed so unfriendly and uptight when they met. It was strange to imagine such a reserved boy having such a colourful mind. However, the thought made Alfred smile. Maybe Arthur wasn't so bad.

The sun was almost at its highest when the Queen went looking for her son to call him to lunch. She found him in the palace garden under the shade of a tree, reading the leather notebook once again. A fond smile on her face, she approached him, nodding to the guards standing under the archway in silent greeting. Alfred was so lost into the pages that he didn't even notice her presence until she sat down beside him on the stone bench and softly called out to him.

The boy jumped, despite his mother's gentle tone, and slipped away from his trance-like state. Blinking a few times, he grinned upon seeing his mother. "Oh, hi Mom! I didn't see you there," he laughed sheepishly.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked, smiling.

Alfred hastily shook his head to reassure his mother. "Not really, nope."

Giving a thoughtful hum, the Queen looked down at the notebook still open on the Prince's lap. "So what's this?"

Alfred also looked down at the notebook. "It's. . . something I found."

"A book?"

"Kinda," he shrugged. "It's more like a journal with a whole bunch of random stuff, but it's really cool!" His blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he told his mother about the contents. The Queen listened attentively, her gentle features lightening up in genuine curiosity as Alfred flipped through some pages with her.

"These are beautiful," she remarked. "No wonder why you've been so protective of it this morning. Where did you find it?"

Now Alfred looked slightly uncomfortable and he looked away. "In. . . the library."

She gave him a doubtful look. "You're not lying are you?"

"O-Of course not!"

The Queen gave him a stern look. ". . . Alfred, that's two now."

". . ."

"Where did you find this, Alfred?" his mother asked again.

He answered hesitantly, ". . . In the fields. . . during free time. . ." Well, it wasn't a complete lie. After a moment of silence, Alfred let out a huff. "It's not fair. Why does it have to be you? I can't lie to you," he whined half-heartedly.

Satisfied that her son gave her a truthful answer, even if it wasn't the whole truth, the Queen laughed at her son. "I suppose it's simply because you're fortunate enough to have a Psychic for a mother." Alfred pouted, but it melted away when his mother combed through his hair with her fingers. "Come on. It's time for lunch. Let's go inside."

Alfred brightened. "Are you eating with us today?" he asked.

His mother nodded with a small smile on her face. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to do so recently."

"It's alright. You can make up for it today!" he chirped, causing the Queen to laugh.

But then Alfred grew quiet. He looked up at his mom, an uncharacteristically shy look on his face. ". . . And Mom?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Do you think–. . . Can we actually–. . . Could we. . . maybe eat outside for lunch?"

"If you'd like," she replied with a smile. Alfred cheered and the Queen gathered her dress to stand. "I'll let the servants know and have a guard fetch your father." Nodding eagerly, Alfred turned his attention back to his book with a grin on his face, his legs swinging happily.

They'll finally be able to eat as a family again! He's always thought his father looked lonely sitting at the table by himself. . . well, during the rare times when the King actually comes to eat with his family. However, since the Queen hasn't been feeling well recently, her meals were brought to her room and that usually meant that Alfred had to dine alone. Hopefully, today would be different and it would finally return to the way things used to be, Alfred thought. What's more was that his mother agreed to eat outside! Being outside was supposed to be bad for the Queen, but if she agreed, that could only mean his mother was getting better and that was more than enough to make Alfred happy.

Hearing said mother call his name from the newly set up table for lunch, Alfred gathered the book into his arms and skipped over, happily sitting in the seat beside her. His eyes eagerly scanned the food laid out in front of them.

"Let's wait for your father, Alfred," the Queen chided upon seeing her son's hungry look and instead, raised the teapot in her hands. "Tea?"

But Alfred had no say in the matter as his mother poured some into his cup without waiting for his answer. Then again, she probably already knew what he was going to say the moment she asked and simply chose to gracefully ignore it.

Alfred let out a groan as he stared into the contents of his cup, the leafy smell of his tea already making his nose wrinkle up in protest. "I hate tea," he lowly grumbled.

The Queen laughed. "I know. But you'll learn to like it."

With the sound of footsteps approaching, the two royals looked up expectantly (and somewhat nervously on Alfred's part) only to see the Jack of Spades returning with the guard the Queen had sent and no King in sight. Although Alfred was slightly disappointed, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Things had always been awkward between Alfred and the King. They rarely had the chance to spend time in each other's company and even on the rare occasions when the King came for dinner there was only the sound of cutlery and awkward silence between them. Alfred had no idea how to act around his father, but naturally he wanted to impress him with his accomplishments. However, whenever Alfred faced the King, who had such a frigid, regal air, his confidence would magically disappear and Alfred would either shyly present himself to his father or give up entirely.

The Queen looked over at the Jack and he replied with a small, apologetic smile. "The King–,"

"–Had some urgent business to attend to?" the Queen finished, a wry smile upon her lips. Her baby blue eyes contained just a tinge of sadness.

Letting out a soft laugh, the Jack nodded and walked towards her with a letter in his hand. "He told me to give you this," he said, handing over the parchment.

The Queen took the letter as though it would explode upon pressured contact and thanked the Jack. Opening it, she mumbled under her breath, "So he has the time to write a letter yet he can't even drop by to see his family before he leaves?"

"I'm truly sorry, your Majesty."

She shook her head. "Oh Yao, you don't have to apologize for something you didn't do."

Alfred couldn't help smiling to himself upon hearing his mother's words. It brought him back to yesterday's incident and it reminded the Prince of the face he got in response from the other boy. It also reminded Alfred that he still had to return the notebook, currently resting on his lap, to its rightful owner.

"Do you find something funny, your Highness?"

Alfred looked up to see the Jack giving him a criticizing look; a look that showed that Yao Wang was anything but amused at the moment. But Alfred simply grinned and replied, "Nope. Not really." Yao snorted, and Alfred tilted his head to the side, staring at the Jack's face as if judging him. "You know, Yao, maybe you should find something funny to laugh at because you don't smile much, do you?"

The Jack sputtered, "I-I beg your pardon?"

Alfred nodded his head with a straight face, as if honestly feeling concerned for the poor, humourless Jack. "Yeah, I mean, smiling is supposed to make you happier and feeling happy lets you live longer!"

"And who says I'm not happy?" Yao demanded.

"Well that frown, first of all," Alfred answered, pointing to the Jack's face. Yao only scowled harder. "And second of all, the fact that you've never really laughed or smiled before!"

"I-I've smiled before!" the Jack tried to defend himself.

"How come I've never seen it?"

"You don't need to," he replied sternly, frowning again.

Alfred pretended to pout. "Aw c'mon, Yao! You'll get wrinkles if you frown so much!"

Yao Wang was the Jack of Spades and basically part of the royal family despite not sharing the bloodline. A loyal subject as well a good friend to the King, Yao practically raised Alfred. With his watchful eyes and guidance, he was the Prince's babysitter more often than not due to the King and Queen's busy schedules. The good that came out of it was that it made the two particularly close, but that also meant, much to the Jack's displeasure, that Alfred could bicker and tease him to no end despite the large age difference.

Yao sputtered some more, the tips of his ears turning red. He opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the Queens sudden violent coughing, cutting the Jack off as well as shattering the good mood around her.

"Your Majesty!" Yao called out in panic, running to her side. The Queen was holding a hand over her mouth and her face was scrunched together in pain. However, she was waving with her other hand in attempts to reassure the Jack that it was nothing. Yao and Alfred could do nothing but wait, the Queen's hacking coughs shaking their hearts as if it was a terrifying storm.

When her coughing subsided, her voiced sounded strained when she spoke again. "Ah, I apologise for that." She cleared her throat and sipped some tea, sighing as she felt her throat relax.

"Are you okay now, Mom?"

The Queen turned to her son and smiled at his concern. "You don't have to make such a face, darling," she soothed, using a hand to gently cup his cheek. "I'm alright now, worry not."

Yao frowned, not convinced. "Wasn't it advised that you stay indoors as much as possible, your Majesty? It's not wise to dine outside so soon. You're condition has only recovered so much."

Dropping her hand from her mouth, she smiled at the Jack. "Well you see, Alfred wanted to have lunch outside today and I thought that since the weather was so lovely, it would be difficult to turn him down."

Yao shot Alfred a look, causing the Prince to shrink back into his chair. "So once again, the Prince is responsible for troubling you." Alfred looked away, feeling guilty.

However the Queen defended him. "It's really alright, Yao. It's not Alfred's fault. I suppose I should just be a bit more wary of my condition. I just overestimated myself, that's all."

"But he still holds fault if he's the one who suggested it! He needs to have a sense of discipline and responsibility or else he'll never understand the consequences of his actions," Yao insisted.

The Queen glanced over at her son who was staring hard at the book in his lap, looking as if he was trying not to cry. She sighed, resigning. "We can talk about this at a more appropriate time," she said, addressing the Jack. When Yao opened his mouth to protest, he was cut short by the look the Queen shot at him.

Instead, she turned her attention to the letter from the King on her lap. Her smile looked strained as she looked up at Yao moments later. "Thank you for taking the time to deliver this personally, Yao. As much as I'd like you to stay for tea, I suppose you should hurry back before the King comes looking for you." As Yao bowed in parting, she continued to say, "Tell my husband I'll speak to him tonight in regards to his letter."

A moment of silence passed between the Queen and Jack as their eyes met. "As you wish," Yao said after a split second of hesitation. "Good day, your Majesty. Alfred." He gave each a small nod before he turned and left.

"It's my fault, isn't it?" Alfred asked miserably once Yao's footsteps could no longer be heard. He looked up at his mother with teary eyes filled with guilt.

The Queen shook her head, giving her son a reassuring smile. "Don't take what Yao said to heart, Alfred. No one's to blame."

Alfred gave her an unconvinced look, but said nothing.

His mother gave a little sigh, changing the topic. "Well, since your father won't be able to join us for lunch, we'll just have to enjoy it without him. Eat up so you can prepare for your afternoon lessons."

Alfred gave his head a little nod, feeling slightly happier once the option to eat opened up. After a few moments of silence, he asked, "So what was in Father's letter?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, Alfred," the Queen reassured. If only he knew better, he would've heard how her words were clipped and tight. However Alfred just nodded at his mother's answer, thinking nothing more of it. He was too busy thinking about Yao's words to notice the sorrowful look his mother was giving him as he ate.

After Arthur was done with the daily harvest, he wasted no time getting to the apple tree. No longer caring about the possibility of seeing Alfred again, the farm boy hurried along, his anxious heart beating wildly in his chest for the safety of his notebook. Reaching the tree, his heart sank heavily when he noticed that his precious notebook wasn't where he remembered it to be and that only his pencil, half-buried in the dirt from the rain, remained. Practically in distress, Arthur searched the area with intense focus, sweat beading on his forehead from sheer panic and fear.

After several long minutes of seeking the book out of every possible hiding place, Arthur stood dumbfounded beside the stream, staring into its moving water feeling empty and lost. What on earth could have happened to it? Even with the storm, it couldn't have travelled far. Arthur secretly hoped some local faeries had found it, recognized it, and took it into shelter, but he would've gotten a notice by now and none came. It couldn't have simply just got up and walked away. . .

. . . Wait.

Realization suddenly dawned on the boy as he recognized just how likely it was that the book had moved. Not on its own accord, of course, but by the hands of someone else; a certain Prince that had left after Arthur did.

The rustling of leaves and shrubbery across the river broke through his thoughts and movement caught his eyes. Lifting his head, he met sky-blue eyes peering curiously at him from among the greenery, albeit a little shy.

Alfred stepped out into the clearing and approached the edge of the river, clutching Arthur's missing notebook to his chest. The Prince gave the other a little smile. "These are really good, you know?" He looked down at the notebook fondly. "I hope you don't mind that I brought it back home with me yesterday to read."

Under normal circumstances, Arthur would've been overjoyed at the praise, but instead, he felt like his privacy had been violated. No one had been allowed to touch his notebook let alone read its contents. "So you took my book? And you read it too?!"

Alfred had a panicked look on his face after seeing how mad Arthur was. "I-I didn't know it was yours! I only realized after I started looking through it!"

"Then why didn't you give it back after you realized?!"

"Because it was raining last night and I don't know even know where you live!"

Silence settled in and Arthur bit back a response he didn't even have. Although he hated losing arguments, he would not be made a fool of a second time. So he kept quiet and tried to regain his wit and patience as he stared down the Prince, however his hands remained tightly clenched by his sides. "F-Fine. . . you win this time. Now give it back to me already." Arthur held out a hand.

Alfred nodded and began to cross the river with a somewhat hesitant look on his face, as if he was debating whether or not to actually return the notebook. Seeing his expression made Arthur worry that Alfred might change his mind, so he didn't continue his accusations and stepped back to let the Prince have some space. But Arthur didn't hesitate to confront him the moment Alfred was on dry land. "Well? Hand it over," he said, holding his hand out for the book.

Alfred glanced down at the book he was holding with a reluctant look on his face. Looking back up at Arthur, he gave a little sigh and a little before handing it over. "Okay. Here ya go."

Arthur blinked and took back his book, a little stunned at Alfred's lack of resistance. "Um, well. . . I. . . guess I should be thankful you took this with you then. . ." Arthur mumbled while staring at the book. He could feel his grudge against the Prince start to fade, although somewhat reluctantly. The boy almost felt a twinge of guilt for the resentful feelings he previously had towards Alfred. When he glanced up and saw the Prince's expectant, blue eyes and small, patient smile, Arthur blushed and stubbornly looked away, trying to find something to look at other than the younger boy's eyes. "B-But I won't say t-thank you since I didn't ask you to bring it home with you! I-It's really your fault f-for taking it without my permission. . . even. . . even if you did. . . keep. . . it. . . dry. . . S-So don't expect me to–!"

Arthur cut himself off, seeing how Alfred had burst out into laughter. The farm boy's blush only deepened in colour. "W-What's so funny?!" he demanded hotly.

Alfred tried to calm his giggles, but the moment he saw Arthur's face he lost control again. The older boy's face was blotched from his blush and his cheeks were slightly puffed up in a pout. His thick eyebrows were drawn down in a frown and it accented the confusion and anger in his glowing, green eyes.

After several attempts to get the laughing Prince to answer his question but to no avail, Arthur gave up. "Ugh, never mind then," he huffed angrily. "You can laugh until your breathing stops for all I care. I'm leaving!" True to his word, Arthur turned on his heels to leave, feeling embarrassed and quite confused. He certainly didn't find anything comical about what he said so he couldn't understand what was making Alfred laugh like a madman.

"No! Wait!" Alfred cried out, his little body still trembling from spurts of giggles. "Don't go!" He ran up to Arthur, an apologetic grin on his face. "I'm sorry for laughing like that, but seriously! I've never seen anyone have so much trouble saying thank you before! And it was so funny!"

Arthur sniffed, not amused. "Well I'm glad I was able to humour the Prince of Spades," he said sarcastically, "but now, if you would excuse me, I'll leave you to continue your laughing fit in peace." He began to march away, still slightly wounded, when he felt a small hand grab his wrist. Arthur turned instinctively, only to see Alfred's eyes, wide and pleading.

"No, please don't go!" he asked. "Won't you stay?"

Arthur frowned, confused. "Why should I?"

"Because I want you to stay!" When Arthur's expression didn't change, Alfred looked away bashfully, his voice lowering. "It's just that. . . I didn't have a chance to finish reading your book so I was wondering. . . if you could. . . maybe read it to me?" Seeing Arthur's startled look, Alfred quickly added, "Or just let lend it to me for a little while longer so I can finish reading it?"

Arthur stared at the Prince with a mix of emotions. Although he was still upset at the fact that Alfred had read the contents of his notebook, the feeling was pitiful compared to the new feeling of pride and happiness that was budding in his chest. Seeing Alfred's hopeful look only made Arthur's resolve to continue disliking the Prince crumble even more than it already has and furthermore, Arthur was very well aware of the fact that Alfred gave his wrist a little pleading squeeze as the silence continued.

So Arthur let out a little sigh before giving his response, looking away in embarrassment. "No, there's. . . there's no need for you to take it back to the palace again." When he looked up into Alfred's clear blue eyes and saw fear in its depths, Arthur surprised himself when he felt himself smile; a small, timid smile, but a genuine one nonetheless. "I. . . I'd be happy to read it to you, if you'd like." Witnessing Alfred's look of surprise followed by a blinding expression of pure joy, Arthur blushed and sputtered out, "B-But it's not f-for your sake! I just don't want you taking it again in case you ruin it, okay?!"

But Alfred didn't make any indication that he heard the older boy's explanation for he seemed to be too busy smiling his heart out. Arthur hadn't expected such an overjoyed reaction and was quite baffled. What dumbfounded him even more was when Alfred dashed forward to hug him like they've been best friends for months chanting, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" It certainly wasn't a reaction you would expect from a person you've hardly known for two days, but there Alfred was hugging the breath out of him.

Before Arthur could respond, Alfred let go and skipped over to the base of the apple tree. "Let's sit over here! It has the best shady spot and it's the easiest place to grab apples, you know, in case we get hungry. Oh! And after we finish reading, could you explain more about the White-Scaled Dragon? The drawing was really cool, but I didn't really understand some of the things you wrote about it. And it was really hard to read some parts of the book because you know Arthur, your handwriting's not the neatest, but that's okay! Mine isn't neat either according to my teachers so we can be messy handwriting buddies! Oh, oh! Then there are the pages about magic and those looked really awesome!"

Alfred continued to rant on and on and on and Arthur couldn't decide if the Prince was talking to him or to himself. Arthur felt himself smile, wider this time, and laughter bubble from his stomach. Having such rowdy company would take some getting used to, but Arthur felt himself beginning to enjoy the Prince's active personality despite claiming to only prefer the company of quiet woodland creatures and peaceful faeries.

He cleared his throat and tried to suppress his excited grin as he called out to the ranting Prince. "Just sit your damn arse down so we can start already!"

The Prince finally stopped his babbling and turned to Arthur, giggling, "Ooh, Arthur said a bad word!"

"Oh hush, Alfred. That's not nearly as bad of a word compared to some others," Arthur smirked, approaching Alfred.

At that, Alfred's eyes grew comically wide. "Really? There's worse?!"

"Of course there is."

"Tell me!"

"No."

Alfred pouted. "Why not?!"

"Well I wouldn't want the Prince of Spades to go around swearing because of me. Besides, you'll probably learn one day or another without my help."

"Aw c'mon!" The Prince puffed his cheeks out and sat down in a huff, crossing his arms dramatically.

Seeing such over-exaggerated behaviour only a boy Alfred's age could pull off, Arthur did the last thing he thought he would ever do with the Prince: laugh. Before he could stop himself, Arthur gave a little snort which soon turned into giggles and laughter. He wasn't used to laughing so freely with anyone other than his mother, so feeling slightly self-conscious, Arthur used a hand to cover his grin as he laughed until it subsided. Sitting down beside the Prince, Arthur cleared his throat and allowed a small smile to remain as he asked Alfred which page he wanted to continue from.

But Alfred was still hearing Arthur's laughter echoing inside his head with a somewhat half-dazed, half-surprised look on his face. It was such a warm, natural sound and Alfred found himself wanting to hear more of it. Alfred had thought Arthur didn't know how to smile until a few moments ago, but now that the Prince knew how good the other looked with one, he was determined to see it again.

"You should laugh more often," Alfred said before he had the chance to stop himself.

Arthur looked startled at the sudden comment, cutting himself off from whatever he had been saying. "W-What?"

Alfred felt himself blush, shocked that those words managed to slip from his brain and out of his mouth. But now that it was out, the Prince stammered to continue. "Y-You have a nice smile!" he blurted. "So I was just thinking that you should smile more!" The Prince thought back to earlier that afternoon when he said those similar words to Yao. Alfred found it strange how differently he felt saying those words to Arthur and only later did he realize it was because he genuinely meant it.

Arthur's vivid green eyes were wide as they looked into Alfred's azure ones, the Prince's blatant honesty making the silence turn awkward. Alfred watched as Arthur's cheeks quickly coloured and as he began to sputter incoherent words in attempts to respond.

Unable to form proper words, Arthur looked away to burn a hole into his book, his fingers fidgeting along the edge of the cover. "A-Are you an idiot or something? You don't just suddenly say that to someone out of nowhere! Especially someone you've only just met."

"We met yesterday though," Alfred pointed out.

"B-But still! It's. . . improper. . ." Arthur continued to absent-mindedly fidget with the pages, his cheeks a brilliant pink.

Although Alfred still felt slightly embarrassed at his little slip, he remained stubborn and stared at Arthur's profile, trying to get the other to look into his eyes so he knew he wasn't lying. "Well I'm not taking it back."

Indeed, Arthur met his eyes but he was alarmed to see such determination illuminating from the Prince in staying true to his word. The boy was too honest for his own good! But as much as Arthur hated to admit it. . . he was happy, albeit a little embarrassed and put on the spot by the sudden compliment.

Arthur turned back to the open book on his lap, determined to keep his cool. "You. . . really are an idiot," he said, lacking any bite. It almost sounded like he was saying it fondly, but of course neither of the boys knew any better.

Alfred noticed that the tips of Arthur's ears had turned red so he said nothing more about the subject. However, he also noticed, no matter how much Arthur was trying to hide it, that Arthur was smiling once again.

Smiling contently, Alfred shuffled closer to the other boy and pointed out the page he had left off on. After Arthur gave the Prince an earful for dog-earring the page, the two read away the remainder of the afternoon, adjusting comfortably to each other's company.

Oh wow, I did not expect this much support after one chapter, but needless to say I'm overjoyed! You guys are fantastic, thank you so much!

I was hoping I'd get this chapter done within a week, but school and life can be quite the bother. But hopefully, I can keep this up!

Again, let me know if there are any mistakes! Thank you for reading and to those who reviewed!